


The Road to Tartarus

by Bittercape (bittercape)



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Dark!Hamid, Dragon!Hamid, Gen, Post-Campaign
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittercape/pseuds/Bittercape
Summary: The professor dying wasn’t his fault, it really wasn’t. He had just been curious, it was Gideon’s fault it went wrong. Hamid getting the blame felt wrong somehow, but he didn’t know what to do about it, and when they decided to expel him, he just accepted it.Looking back, it was hard to understand why he hadn’t protested more.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28
Collections: Rusty Quill Secret Santa 2019





	The Road to Tartarus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miri1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miri1984/gifts).



1.  
Even as a very young boy, Hamid had a protective instinct. When his sister fell and scraped her knee while playing, he walked her inside to the nanny, and then he went back outside to the garden to remove the branch she had tripped over. Every other branch and rock along the garden paths were carefully removed and gathered in a pile, because Hamid didn’t want his beloved sister to cry.

A few weeks later, she climbed a tree and broke her arm when she fell out of it. The next day the tree was gone, and Hamid assumed his father had had it removed. Hamid’s mother thought the same. What Saleh Sr. himself thought is anyone’s guess, as he didn’t confide in anyone.

2.  
Hamid was in boarding school the first time he fell in love. He didn’t know her name, but he saw her walking back and forth between the kitchens and the scullery, and he admired the shininess of her long, dark braid and the spring in her step. He was the first one to notice the gentle swell of her belly, and as soon as he understood what that meant, he lost his fascination with her. If she wasn’t his, he wanted nothing to do with her.

3.  
Even before the thing with the professor got out of hand, he could feel Liliana slipping away. Where she had once been his, fully and completely, she had started avoiding eye contact. Staying longer in the labs. Meeting friends for lunch. While he knew she wasn’t cheating, or anything as gauche, she was clearly leaving. His instincts to hold on to her warred with his pride, and in the end, it all seemed moot.

More than missing her specifically though, he missed the feeling of having someone there. Someone who belonged with him.

4.  
Meeting Zolf and Sasha was one of the best things that had happened to him. Bertie he knew already, obviously. And Bertie alone would never have made him feel like belonging, like these people were his, but also he was theirs. It was almost like a family, like the companionship he’d had with his sisters especially, that he had lost when he went away.

He nearly lost them so many times, but they always saved each other. Until Prague. Hamid didn’t think Zolf really ever understood how much it hurt Hamid to see him leave. How much it felt like something precious was torn away, and he couldn’t take it back. He wanted to grab Zolf by the belt and keep him there, let him know how much he wasn’t able to let him go, but his pride kept him from begging.

5.  
Later on, when the spell was cast on him, he felt - different. Well, obviously he felt different. But more different that he would have thought. Like a part of himself had come to the surface, something that had always been there, but never fully acknowledged. A part that wanted to hold on, to own, to protect. A part that wanted to destroy anything that threatened what was his. A part that was proud, and strong, and _right_.

He felt different. But he didn’t think anyone noticed, or that anything really had changed. There were just parts of him that had become more prominent, and surely they weren’t even bad. Protecting your own was a good thing.

6.  
Much later, after Liliana’s crimes and Aziza’s funeral and Saira’s sad eyes, and after losing Sasha and Grizzop to Rome (though Sasha hurt the most, Grizzop had never been his the way she had been), Hamid met Zolf again. Zolf was very different. He had lost that cloud of darkness and the smell of brackish water that used to cling to him, and he wasn’t Hamid’s anymore. It felt like Zolf and Wilde belonged to each other, but more than anything, they both belonged to the mission. So when Zolf told them the mission came first, Hamid wasn’t surprised, but he was disgusted. The thought that he’d let any mission come before his friends, his family, _his_ , was just … no. Zolf gave him a strange look, but Azu, lovely, warm Azu, agreed with him, and that was that.

7.  
The kobolds were such a relief. Finally, someone who seemed to understand what he needed. When Skraag offered his allegiance, it felt like something clicked into place. He was still a bit wary of the other’s reactions, especially Zolf’s. It didn’t seem like they would understand, and it made him awkward. But still. Skraak was his, and the other kobolds soon followed.

Of course he felt bad about the ones he had … taken out with the fireball, especially when he knew they could so easily have been his. But ultimately, that was what made it easier. He would love and protect what was his, but what was his was also his to decide over. The kobolds understood and didn’t resent him, and he would forever be grateful to them for that.

8.  
After everything was over, after Azu’s injury, and Wilde’s infection and recovery, and the world ending all over again, Hamid went back to Cairo. The city was rebuilding, and the people were rebuilding themselves, and Apophis kept a watchful eye, but did not seem to interfere. Saira was quiet on the matter, and his parents were preparing to retire to the countryside.

After several weeks spent healing his body and mind in his old family home, Hamid went to see Apophis. The massive dragon was still one of the more impressive beings he had met on his journey, even compared to the gargantuan creatures in the depths of the Russian tundra, and his bow was deep with genuine respect. Apophis’s voice was as deep and large as ever, and Hamid could still feel the resonance in his very bones, but the heat seemed lesser than before. That might just be him, though. His features had changed subtly, and the skin around his wrists remained scaly, shining with a brassy gleam. It seemed no more than reasonable he would be better able to tolerate the heat as well.

Apophis spent some time studying Hamid after the initial greetings. His gaze was assessing, but not unnerving, and Hamid remained straight-backed, chin lifted, and hands relaxed by his side.

“Out of all my offspring, you have the most promise,” Apophis rumbled. “If you care for my advice, I would have you go to Paris. There is much that needs rebuilding, and precious few left of our kind.” This seemed quite reasonable to Hamid, and also rather what he’d been thinking himself, so he accepted easily. The two of them kept talking long into the night, Hamid’s small kobold guard waiting patiently by the door.

Before leaving Cairo, he asked Azu to join him in Paris, but she preferred to stay in the temple to heal. The look she gave him was worried and assessing, but still filled with the all-encompassing love that had first sent her to Aphrodite, so Hamid decided not to worry about it. He made her promise to come visit when she felt well, though.

9.  
Hamid brought his kobolds to the family mansion on the outskirts of Paris, where there were spacious grounds and both he and the kobolds felt safe. The Europeans still had much to learn about other races, and he was sure the Parisians would love the kobolds no more than they loved goblins.

Rebuilding the banking system was a long and arduous process, but Hamid knew he could make it better than it had been before. Safer, and more fair, and more equal. He had seen a lot of suffering while travelling, and while some lessons had taken hold ( _It’s not fair that some races are treated worse than others, just because of race_ ), others had not entirely ( _Money can solve a lot of problems. Shut up, Grizzop_ ).

Sometimes people were reluctant to accept the changes Hamid wanted, but he had many weapons in his arsenal now. Some were easily intimidated by a hind of claw and a glimpse of scales. Others were easily charmed by dark eyes and a smooth voice. And yet others … well, they just needed a little nudge, didn’t they? After all, a dragon has many talents, and a subtle mental influence never hurt anybody.

10.  
Paris, and indeed Europe, was flourishing, and Hamid’s reach went far and deep. So he was aware of the worry in Zolf and Wilde long before they came to visit. Wilde seemed much as he ever was, smooth and witty and elegant, but with a war-honed edge that made Hamid’s spine tingle. Zolf was easier to read, he had never been particularly subtle. The worry and suspicion was practically written on his forehead, but he let Wilde take the lead. The conversation was easy and well mannered, and Hamid managed to smooth their ruffled feathers, although he knew better than to try any mental nudges with the two of them. They were both too wary.

They just didn’t seem to understand. Hamid was well aware that some of his methods would be frowned upon by Zolf in particular (and definitely Grizzop, why was that particular inner voice so insistent), but really, society as a whole were better off. Everything Hamid did was for the greater good, and if a few of the higher-ups didn’t always know where their ideas came from, there really was no harm done. He wouldn’t have had to influence them at all if they had just listened in the first place.

11.  
Apophis kept in touch with Hamid, through letters and the occasional visit. He was the one to keep watch the first time Hamid transformed fully into a dragon, one a little larger than Apophis himself, and with a darker brassiness to his scales. He was pleased with the faint purple shine to his claws and his back ridge, he had always loved purple. The kobolds had formed a ring around the two dragons, and were baying their approval of their Lord. It could be heard all over Paris, but the few who understood what it meant chose to remain silent. A dragon was back in power, and they all remembered the devastation the last one had caused. Silence seemed the better option.

12.  
Finally, Azu came to visit. She had let her hair grow to a short buzz, and the white was startling against her rich, dark skin. Hamid didn’t want to think about her shorter lifespan, but it was difficult not to. Her robes were tailored to fit her lost right arm, but the glow of Aphrodite’s love radiating from her was stronger than ever.

She was the only friend Hamid had left. True, he had more associates and acquaintances than he could shake a stick at, and the kobolds were his loyal and ever-growing people, but he had lost all his true friends, one way or the other. Except for Azu. He craved her love and acceptance, but he also knew she would disapprove of some of the choices he had made. And so he avoided those topics, and kept the conversation safe, and when she left, he knew they wouldn’t see each other again in this lifetime. He cried, and the kobolds comforted him, but there was nothing to be done.

13.  
As the years passed, so did the people he had known. Azu went first, by all reports peacefully and joyfully, into the arms of her goddess. Wilde, and Zolf soon after. His family, without having embraced their dragon heritage. He hadn’t heard of Liliana in years when reports of her funeral reached him. He had a few nephews and nieces and their offspring in various places, but he had been too busy to get to know them when they were young, and could not face trying to contact them now. Apophis was still there, of course, and probably always would be, but their relationship was not close, and sometimes tended towards the territorial. Hamid would rather avoid conflict, and so he kept interactions at a polite distance.

Without having to wonder what his friends would think, he would admit he sometimes was a little bit reckless in his methods. He accidentally frightened an old gentleman into a coronary, and a few of the senior members of the city council became a little too pliable when he nudged a bit too hard. But to be fair, they had tried to oppose his suggestion for taxation, and what would happen to the poor quarter then? No, control was better, and more beneficial for all. He wouldn’t see Paris under the control of gang lords again, like London once again seemed to be.

14.  
Hamid was surprised to see Cel sitting on the bench outside his mansion when he came back from the bank. He had nearly forgotten about Cel, they didn’t ever grow close, but nevertheless Hamid was pleased to see them. They stayed for a few days, the two of them taking walks in the woods and Cel having long conversations with the kobolds. It was nice, having a friend again. Hamid could feel the evaluating glances, but instead of being annoying, it felt comforting and familiar. Still, Cel was not someone he could confide in.

When they left, Cel held Hamid by the elbow and made the most intense eye contact he had experienced in years.

“I believe you mean well, Hamid,” Cel said in a comforting voice. “But be careful. Some think you are going too far, and it’s not just me watching you these days.”

Hamid pretended not to understand, but Cel’s piercing eyes seemed to see right through him. They didn’t comment further, though, and just wrapped Hamid in their generous embrace. Hamid was grateful, both for the warning and the comfort, and somehow it felt easier to keep the balance, knowing Cel was watching from afar.

Until he forgot.

15.  
He was in a council meeting, and none of his methods seemed to work. The council members were conspiring against him, they wouldn’t see reason, they were resisting his nudging, and Hamid could feel the rage building. Why wouldn’t they _understand_? There was no reasoning with them anymore, it was time for a new council, or no council at all. He knew best, after all. He could feel himself start to expand, and the fire start to build in his throat, when a voice he hadn’t heard outside his own head in decades shouted from the rafters.

“Hey!”

Hamid snapped his head up to see, because it couldn’t be --

“Much obliged,” said Grizzop, and let loose the arrow.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a real treat to write this for you, Miri! You are such a strong voice in the fandom, and I appreciate your writing so much. That made this an intimidating venture as well, but I hope you like my Hamid. 
> 
> There may be a potential epilogue in the wings, should you wish to see it.


End file.
